


Play It Again

by literaryshoes



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryshoes/pseuds/literaryshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master wants to understand Christmas a little bit better. How better than with some music?</p><p>A Tumblr Secret Santa gift for Tumblr user monsterfisken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Play It Again

It had been easy to convince the Master to listen. After all, the Master had actually asked the Doctor to explain Christmas as an Earth holiday, to “better understand the pointless celebration these humans seem to love so much.” The Master had easily grasped the general idea of the holiday, so the Doctor had decided to move past retelling old Christmas stories and instead tried music. The Master had always liked music, so the Doctor thought this would be a good way to introduce the Master to one of the most beloved Christmas traditions. The Doctor had put together a collection of some of the most beloved Christmas tunes he knew of, but so far the Master had had a complaint about every song.

The Doctor had started with “White Christmas,” which the Doctor thought a reasonable place to begin, a true classic. The Master, however, thought otherwise. 

“I don’t understand why this person so desperately wants there to be precipitation on this particular date,” said the Master. “Why should a so-called ‘white’ Christmas be preferable to any other sort of Christmas? What does snow have to do with the capacity to enjoy Christmas?” 

The Doctor shook his head. “It’s about tradition and nostalgia. If you’ll recall, the line actually continues with ‘just like the ones I used to know.’ The person singing wants a Christmas like the ones he remembers.” 

“Nostalgia,” said the Master, shaking his head. “The human emotion I find most incomprehensible. Why cling desperately to the past when they have no way of revisiting it apart from memories? And even those fade and distort with time.” 

The Doctor shook his head. “That isn’t the point.” He sighed almost inaudibly. “Perhaps I should try another song.” He thought a moment, then decided on “Frosty the Snowman.” The Master listened intently, although when a look of disgust appeared on the Master’s face during the second verse, he knew this one wouldn’t fare any better. Sure enough, the moment the song ended the Master immediately chimed in. 

“Magic,” said the Master. “Of course they think it’s magic. Any technology humans don’t understand is automatically classed as magic. They would rather believe that the so-called ‘life’ of an anthropomorphic mass of precipitation is the result of magic instead of electric microcurrents, evidently originating from an old silk hat.” 

The Doctor sighed. “Again, not the point.” 

“What is the point?” asked the Master. “The story of an anthropomorphic mass of precipitation? Hardly the most inspiring of stories. Especially since the creature melts in the end. I thought this was meant to be a joyful holiday.” 

The Doctor rolled his eyes. “It is. It’s meant to be an amusing children’s story, and the last line, about returning, is meant to be hopeful.” 

“It sounds more ominous to me,” said the Master. “I would consider a promised return by an animate collection of snow to be a threat.” 

The Doctor just shook his head. “Let’s move on, then.” 

“Let’s,” said the Master, though his tone was amused rather than frustrated. 

The music started up again. “Oh, there’s noooo place like hoooome for the holidaaaays…” The Doctor immediately pressed the Stop button. Nope. No. He wasn’t going there. He had no desire even to begin thinking about the Master’s reaction to that one. The Master simply chuckled. 

The next song to play was “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” The Doctor could all but feel the Master losing patience as the song wore on. 

“I don’t understand,” the Master said. “A person of obvious material wealth decides to send a paramour gifts for twelve days… and more than half of them are birds. I counted one hundred seventy-four birds. Are birds some sort of human status symbol?” 

“Not in general,” replied the Doctor. 

“And the only gift of any real monetary value, the gold rings, are only given a comparatively paltry forty times. Forty out of three hundred sixty-four.” The Master shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense.” 

“You’re right,” said the Doctor. “I never quite understood that one myself. Right, then. Next song.” 

After “Jingle Bell Rock,” the Master said, “This song is just a list of types of music and dancing with the words ‘jingle bell’ put in front of them. This is considered a masterpiece of celebratory music?” 

The Doctor paused for a moment at his words, then laughed. He’d never really considered it before, but he had to admit it was true. “All right, all right. Next song, then.” 

The next song turned out to be “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing,” which almost at once put a sour expression on the Master’s face. No sooner had the final note sounded than the Master announced, “Nothing and nobody could induce me to listen to that again.” 

“Fine,” said the Doctor. “You’ve found something to criticize in every song I’ve played for you. So I’ll try one last song. One final try, and if that doesn’t work, you’ll have to figure out Christmas on your own.” 

The Master shrugged, but secretly hoped that the Doctor would find a song, just one song, that he would appreciate. Even more secretly, he appreciated the fact that the Doctor had even thought of this at all. He respected the effort the Doctor had made. Secretly. Very secretly. 

“Right, then,” said the Doctor, and he played the next song on the list. 

“You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen…” The Master looked confused, then intrigued as the song went on. The Doctor actually dared to look hopeful. That was a better reaction than any he had seen so far. 

“You’ll go down in hiiiii-stoooo-ryyyyy!” The song finished, and the Doctor looked expectantly over at the Master. 

“Well,” said the Master, “I find it very amusing that the song lists eight reindeer whom I’m fairly certain are never mentioned anywhere else, then asks whether the listener remembers the only reindeer who has an entire song written about him.” 

The Doctor sighed, but the Master continued speaking. 

“And then there are the other unnamed reindeer. They ostracize Rudolph, refusing to associate with him… until he becomes useful,” the Master said. He paused for a moment, and the Doctor realized exactly what was going through his mind. 

The Master looked up at the Doctor. “Play it again.” 

The Doctor smiled and complied.

**Author's Note:**

> Major brownie points to anyone who spotted the reference to my favorite Doctor Who Christmas story of all time!


End file.
